


Act

by not_a_heartthrob_my_ass



Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Dom!Malcolm, Dom/sub, F/M, Office Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_a_heartthrob_my_ass/pseuds/not_a_heartthrob_my_ass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt I received by poetneversleeps on Tumblr:<br/>Can I request Malcolm/You? Established relationship, Dom!Malcolm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Act

You return to Malcolm’s office after hours without seeing him, working for him, bringing him a coffee just because you know he will always be pleased at that. It’s late night and there’s only the two of you still in the offices of Number 10. It’s not a coincidence: you’ve been working together for ages and it’s not a secret that you’ve been dating for a while, though perhaps no one knows you’ve also moved in with him. You smile as your hand reaches for the handle of the door to his office: your brain seems to keep failing to process the idea that Malcolm Tucker is yours now. Or rather, _you_ are _his_.

You open the door without worrying about knocking and it’s impressive how fast the same door closes just behind you: thin but strong arms wrap around your waist, pull you against a lean and hard body. You spill at least half of the coffee on the floor. Malcolm’s hot breath is on your neck, making you shiver. One of his hands slides up to your breasts while the other settles on your hip. He presses himself against you with a firm thrust and you feel his cock steel-hard between your buttocks. You inhale sharply.

“Brought you coffee,” you say, mind wiped of every thought of some relevance.

He snickers.

“Such a good girl.”

His voice is husky, rough, enough to get you wet. He drops a line of slow kisses on your neck, just the hint of his teeth scraping your skin in the process. You shudder as he rocks his hips demandingly against you and he snitches the coffee from your already-trembling fingers. He gulps it down in one go and throws the plastic glass directly into the bin as he turns you around in his arms.

Malcolm’s mouth claims yours instantly in a hard kiss. It’s wet and hot, thrilling as you taste the coffee on his lips, his tongue immediately slipping past your parted lips, seeking out yours. He holds you tighter against him, your arms wrapping around his waist to pull him closer while one of his hands is on your arse, squeezing possessively, and the other cupping your face, keeping your head in place for him to kiss you passionately until you are moaning in his mouth. Loud, without even thinking, low in your throat. He’s the most skilful kisser. He smirks against your lips.

He moves your arms from his waist, his grip strong on your wrists, placing your hands on his crotch and rutting against your palms, looking at you with darkened eyes. He’s so perfectly hard beneath his clothes that you feel your cheeks heat up suddenly in a hot wave that shoots down your spine to right between your legs.

“Tell me where you want my cock,” he issues, as though reading your mind.

“Malcolm. We can’t-“

He presses two fingers on your lips, silencing you.

“There’s only us left in here, sweetheart. I said, _tell me_.”

He removes his fingers to bend down and kiss you chastely just before biting at your lower lip, pulling it with his teeth with studied roughness, just to make his point clear. The mixture of pleasure and pain sends little hot sparks through your body.

“Inside me,” you gasp pliantly against his mouth.

He hums softly, as though considering the option.

“Such an impatient pretty thing, you are,” he says eventually, with the most mellifluous tone. “You’re forgetting manners.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head dramatically. “Ask again.”

You swallow, hard.

“I want you inside me. _Please_.”

He smiles slyly, his blue eyes fixed on yours and seemingly looking straight through you. He brings his face on eye-level with yours.

“ _No._ ”

You feel yourself draw a sharp intake of breath.

“Malc-“

“Get on your knees,” he commands.

A large, firm hand on your shoulder, pushing you down. Never violent, never enough to hurt if you don’t want it to. Just a crystal-clear order. With that you know, you’re sure he’s had one of those days when no one fucking listens to him and everything goes wrong, those cunts who can’t handle the thought that Malcolm knows fucking best, and he ends the day starving with the need to know that he has control on one thing at least, on one person. Your knees hit the hard floor and Malcolm’s hand is on the back of your head pushing your face, your mouth, there against his crotch, hard, hurriedly. His scent fills your nostrils, manly, heavy, making your breath quicken.

“Your mouth ‘round me. _Now_.”

There’s pressing need in the tone of his voice, in the grasp of his hand that tightens in your hair.

You make quick work of his belt, of the buttons and zipper of his trousers. The grey fabric pools around his feet together with his underwear, letting his erection spring free, thick and warm, a nice weight in your hand, already leaking pre-come. It’s his big secret, you think, how hot and bothered he gets from shouting up and down the hallways of Number 10.

You lose no time, quickly wrapping your lips around his cock after pumping it a couple of times, your fist just tight enough around him, just the way he likes it. Both his hands in your hair now, pushing his prick deep into your mouth. You relax, let it happen, let yourself take the whole length of him inside you, hearing the most erotic little groans from him as your nose presses against the fine line of hair below his navel and you make sure your tongue brushes against the underside of his cock as he slides out of you.

Back in in, quickly, with a hiss of raw pleasure. Back out. He starts a fast and hard rhythm, slamming his hips inside you, fucking himself with your mouth. You can’t help a gagging sound or two as you remind yourself to breathe through your nose, difficult task to master while feeling lit up inside with pleasure just because of how good Malcolm’s cock feels in your mouth. It doesn’t help that you can feel his body shake and his breath hitch every time you make enough noise that it reverberates through his bones.

“Oh, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good.”

He inhales sharply as he slows down, enjoying the feel of your mouth hot around him, the feel of your lips. You don’t lose the chance of working him up now, swirling your tongue around the head of his prick, taking his balls in your palm and gently squeezing, massaging. His hips buck into your mouth.

“ _Fuck_. Yeah. Fuck. Keep doing that. Suck my cock.”

He stills the moves of his hips and his grip tightens in your hair almost to the point of pain. You obey diligently, sucking him hard as you take him in and out of your mouth, playing with his balls just a little more roughly, teasing the spot behind them with one of your fingers. He lets out a helpless moan and you look up at him. Clouded eyes half-closed with pleasure, face reddened and lips gorgeously parted, a thin veil of sweat on his temples. The sight has your clit throb with need, but you know too well that if you touch yourself now Malcolm is never ever going to let you come, and as much as you enjoy going frustrated sometimes right now you need him too much to have any of that.

“Stop,” he orders, voice hoarse with pleasure.

You still, look up at him again. His eyes are closed, he’s taking deep breaths. You can taste his pre-come in your mouth.

“Could come in your mouth,” he considers, pulling your head back and leaving just the tip of his cock against your lips.

This is that point when you know it all depends on how you play it, when Malcolm lets you earn whatever you want. Be submissive and obedient and he will let you come, the way you asked to if you asked at all. Be defiant and challenge him and you’ll earn roughness, large hands slapped against your arse and perhaps even your clit, long and sweet and excruciatingly slow fucking, getting close to orgasm five, ten times, but never ever coming, not today and probably not next time either, regardless of how much pleading and begging and praising you’ll do. Oh, you are tempted by the second option, you always are no matter how much you want to come, but you know you don’t have time for that, not really, the cleaners are going to arrive soon and you really don’t want to get caught fucking your boss.

“Malcolm, please.”

There’s a smile on his lips now.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

He slides back in your mouth, slowly, then back out.

“I want you inside me. _Please_. _Malcolm_. Make me come. Come inside me. _Please_.”

“So many requests. Have you been good enough?”

Back inside you, back out, frustratingly slow.

“No, I’m never good enough, Malcolm. But I know you’re so kind… so giving,” you praise, pressing little licks and kisses to the tip of his cock, knowing it will earn you what you want.

Malcolm is smiling his one-sided smile. You have won.

“Get up,” he orders. You obey. He pulls his trousers back partially up his legs and holds you close to him, whispering in your ear. “ _Now_ , I’m going to bend you over my desk and fuck your brains out. I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll want to scream. But you’re not gonna make a sound ‘cause, you see, the cleaners are in the building already and if we get caught, _if we get caught_ it’s going to be such and fucking nuisance to deal with I’m going to be so cross, _so cross_ , sweetheart. You don’t want to see me cross, isn’t that right?”

You shake your head emphatically, the thrill of the risk of getting caught and his dirty talking and rough Scottish accent only making you more aroused.

Malcolm grabs your wrists, hard, traps them behind your back in the solid grip of his hand and pushes you against his desk, your thighs hitting the wood, bends you over, one side of your face pressed against his papers and documents. You can’t control your breath, you can’t think of anything that isn’t him.

He unceremoniously lifts your skirt, baring your arse. You never wear knickers, you know how he likes easy access to your body whenever and wherever he wants it. One of his fingers slides carefully inside your cunt. Careful, yes, he always is, he’d never do you any harm you didn’t ask for, and even then nothing that will sting for more than a day or two. His finger sinks in all too easily, you barely feel it. You’re impossibly wet around him. A second finger follows, this too with smooth ease.

“Fucking fuck me. Love, you’re fucking _dripping_.”

Malcolm’s breathing hard now in your ears as he bends over you, his fingers eagerly replaced by his stiff prick. You can't bite back a moan as he fills you, stretches you out just a little, thick and long inside you.

“Shhh.”

One of his hands tightens around your wrists, the other covers your mouth, slipping his fingers covered with you past your lips. You suck on them, because it feels so good and because you know he wants you to.

You lick him clean with religious diligence as he starts a steady rhythm of his hips into yours, his hand suffocating your every moan. He fucks you slowly at first, he’s come too close to orgasm to let himself get carried away. The thought only makes you wetter. The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you are the best, filthiest thing you’ve ever heard, together with his ragged breathing against your skin as he places breathless wet kisses on your neck and shoulder. Even fucking you like this, only slowly picking up pace, he never fails to hit that spot inside you that, God, yes, makes you want to scream, and loud. You don’t know how Malcolm has acquired this infallible precision, frankly you don’t even care.

He’s faster now, his kisses stop, you know he can’t hold back much longer. Doesn’t matter, you’re so close and he’s so good at this, so fucking good. You have to shut your eyes tightly and cover his hand over your mouth with your own to avoid shouting his name. Pleasure comes in electric waves down our spine at his every stroke, every hit deep inside you just. There. The friction of his cock against your muscles is pure fucking heaven as you contract around him and he lets out a strangled moan.

“Fuck, come on, sweetheart. Love. Come for me. Let me see you come.”

So desperate, so intense, always. That’s your undoing. That’s what has you almost bite down on his fingers and has your muscles clench hard around him as your climax rocks your body with long, shuddering waves under Malcolm’s weight firm on your back. He outright whimpers in your ear. You milk every last drop of his orgasm out of his as his hips jerk unevenly into yours, his breath caught in his throat.

Malcolm cleans himself with his handkerchief and then hands it to you, letting you get up. He brings it to his mouth when you’re finished and inhales deeply, eyes closed. You shiver and he gives you an undefinable look, pupils blown. Once you’ve both adjusted your clothes he pulls you into a passionate but loving kiss, unhurried, gentle.

“Was that good?”

Little worshipful kisses to your jaw.

“Yes. Very. Perfect.”

“You alright?”

Serious now, looking into your eyes. You nod and smile, and he smiles back. The both-sides-of-his-mouth-smiling smile. This is to remind you that this is just a game, an act, something you do because you get off on being bossed around, on that bit of roughness and pain, and he gets off on doing it, on having control and giving orders and feeling strong and all-powerful and respected, worshipped even. Underneath all this there’s deep love, and a man with too many insecurities for this damned job who brings you breakfast in bed and sleeps curled up close against you at night. Who holds you tenderly now in a warm hug.

This is how one of the cleaners finds you, and there’s no way to misunderstand what you’ve been doing. The room smells of sex, you’re both blushing crimson and your skirt is stained with Malcolm’s come. He has to literally bribe her with half of what’s in his wallet, which is quite a lot, but he doesn’t seem too cross after all. You get to come twice more once you’re home.


End file.
